Attack on Titan Drabbles
by Aggy the Awesome
Summary: This is just three short pieces I was inspired to write from Tumblr art 3 The first one has Levi and (kinda) Erwin. The second one has Levi, Hange, and Erwin. The third has Levi and Hange. WARNING: Major character death. Lots of angst and sad hurt/comfort stuff.


The Fallen

The pavement was painted red beneath his feet, a freshly splattered coat that stained the bottoms of Levi's shoes. Surrounding him was the smell of copper, musty and thick in the air he breathed. It stung his nostrils with each inhale, but he didn't wince or cringe. He was used to the scent of blood; it wasn't the first time he had been covered in it. Engulfed by it. Feeling it dripping from his hands and down his arms.

He stood alone. His back was perfectly straight, his legs pressed together and knees locked as if he were at attention in front of a ranking officer. He imagined it that way - wished. He wanted to be in the presence of his Commander, trapped in his shadow but content to be there. He wanted to meet his eyes and salute him with a fist over his heart, proud to work under a man he respected more than himself. He wanted Erwin Smith.

Instead, he was standing before judgment. Hundreds of eyes stared upon him. Some were glaring, frowning, indifferent; others were blank, tearful, afraid. But no matter the judge's expression, there still seemed to be a hint of victory. To them, their suffering was over. They had killed the man who kept killing their sons and daughters of the Scouting Legion. They had ended the hopeless crusade against the Titans outside of the wall - one man's crusade that had taken the lives of hundreds.

Through their triumph, their hatred, Levi could see fear and insecurity, discomfort and hesitation.

Because standing in front of them, forsaken and alone, was Humanity's Strongest.

Broken.

In his hands he held what was left of the man who had been trying to save humanity. Erwin's head was nestled into Levi's black jacket, wrapped loosely and clutched ever so tenderly in his grasp. He pressed his cheek up against the bloodied fabric, feeling the shape of Erwin's familiar nose, the contours of his cheekbones, his chiseled jaw. It was horrific to him how someone could physically be there but not actually be _present._ It was even more horrific knowing that Erwin had been alive just five minutes ago, on his knees and eyes holding onto Levi's - beautiful, living eyes - and now he was gone, his eyes turned into empty, glazed memories.

The crowd standing before Levi wasn't afraid of _him._ They weren't scared of his tiny stature or his distant, haunting gaze. They didn't flinch at the way his eyes flashed crimson, reflecting the blood on his hands and at his feet. They weren't intimidated by his eerie silence or the way h didn't move a muscle except to gently stroke the covered head with his thumb.

They were afraid of the four words Humanity's Strongest had said before he went completely quiet.

"Dead. We're all dead."

Ash Tray

"How long has he been in there?" Levi asked as he approached Hanji, expressionless and casual.

He stopped next to her, bringing his cigarette to his lips and taking a long draw. He held the smoke in his mouth for a few seconds, letting it cool and soothe his throat before releasing it between gently parted lips. He didn't even look at her, his eyes forward as he held his gun level with his shoulder.

Blood still contaminated his gloves and white button-down shirt, and he had wiped a smudge on his cheek that was starting to dry and crust on his skin. Normally, he would have been quick to clean himself up; to scrub the stains out of his clothes and wash the evidence off of his flesh. But his work wasn't quite done yet. He had taken out one target, but the second was still alive and he had to wait for the order to eliminate him.

"About fifteen minutes," Hanji replied, a grin spreading across her lips.

Hanji looked less composed. She stood in place with her hands loosely gripping channel lock pliers that were covered in just as much blood as the rest of her. There were drops on her face and one lens of her glasses, and almost an entire pint-full on her white coat and undershirt.

She looked even more menacing than Levi. The sick grin on her face was a stark contrast to the narrowed eyes of the assassin at her side. The way she opened and closed the pliers over and over again, imitating he motion she used when working over her victim, was somehow more demented than the way Levi held his gun loosely and pointed toward the ceiling. Both killers were eager to finish their work; they just showed it very differently.

A few minutes later, the room door opened and Erwin stepped out. His sleeves were rolled up, successfully avoiding the blood all over his hands. Other than that, he looked as formal as ever. His hair was slicked back and perfect, his clothes ironed and clean. He looked like a true professional as he shut the door behind him, taking a small hand towel off of his shoulder and wiping his hands with it.

He looked up at Levi and Hanji, both staring at him with expectant eyes, but neither spoke to ask any questions. They didn't need to. Erwin's nod said it all, despite his expression remaining hard and stoic.

Levi took another draw of his cigarette, relishing in the taste before exhaling all of the smoke in a nice, long puff. He tilted his head from side to side, popping his neck before moving toward the door, his steps slow and deliberate. He opened the door and closed it behind him, disappearing from view.

Erwin looked at Hanji as he continued to wipe his hands clean. She had stopped clicking her pliers together and was staring longingly at the door. If it had been her choice, she would have had at least a few more hours with the target, to learn anything she could about him and what made him tick. She loved experimenting.

A muted _pht_ came from behind the door, and a moment later, Levi opened the door and stepped out, leaving it open as he walked away. His cigarette was gone and his face had a few extra blood droplets on it that weren't there before.

Behind him, the second target sat limp in his chair, wrists and ankles bound to the arms and legs. His head was dropped to the side, eyes lolled back into his head. A bullet hole was perfectly centered on his forehead, blood dripping out in a single line down his nose.

Levi's cigarette was poking out of the fresh wound, smoke clearing from the room after its source had been smothered inside of flesh and blood.

Mission completed.

Gone

He couldn't bring himself to meet her eyes.

His own were level, staring straight ahead without a hint of emotion in them. To anyone else, it might have seemed normal, but not to Hanji. She could see a distinct difference - the deviation from his normal, narrowed expression. He wasn't himself. His eyes were softer, if only slight. They didn't hold the usual fire behind them. It had been smothered by darkness, suffocated by pain.

Hanji knew what it meant. She had known the second that Levi came riding up the road, battered and bruised from the fight, spirit stolen by the Titans. He didn't sit as tall then, but hunched over enough to let his hair fall in front of his face, sticky with blood.

But not his blood.

She didn't even bother asking. She hurried to meet him, reaching up to him as soon as he climbed down from the horse. When he turned, that's when she saw his eyes for the first time, naked and afraid and hidden behind the stoicism he showed to the world. But she knew him well enough to see past them. See into the deep, dark abyss that swallowed her soul and made her choke out a sob.

"H— he's gone, isn't he?"

His silence was enough. It engulfed both of them as she pressed against him, arms wrapping around his neck and torso as she buried her face into his shoulder.

Levi didn't move at first. He stood there, eyes forward and back stiff as she cried into his flesh. He could feel her warm tears wetting his skin and it made him snap out of his trance, if only enough that he realized what Hanji was doing. Even then, all he did was reach up with one hand to run his fingers into her air, tangling the strands between his fingers. But still, he said nothing. What _could_ he say?

Erwin Smith was dead.

Humanity was lost.


End file.
